Rejoice Always

The Bible does not say “rejoice sometimes, pray when you need something, and give thanks when things go your way.” 

I was afraid this post would be different from what it is. I was afraid I would fail my exams today. (And I can hear my mama and daddy right now: “You’ve got this, stop being so negative.”) But I knew if I did fail, I would rejoice anyway. I would thank God anyway.  

Luckily, I’m rejoicing, praying, and giving thanks because I passed two of my hardest exams this far. And by pass, I got a 100 on one and a 1000+ on the other. One of these exams would determine whether or not I could move on to next semester.

I am out here doing the dang thing. I go to school, then I go to work, and then I come home and study. Sometimes all night long. I’ve pulled more all-nighters this semester than I’ve pulled in my whole life. But I couldn’t do this on my own. I’m not doing this on my own. I have people who believe in me. I have a big God who put me on this earth for a reason. I am working towards my calling. And I am so thankful. I have prayed so much this semester and God answers. 

Nursing school is hard. Life is hard… but we weren’t put here for things to be easy. What would be the point in that? 

If you are struggling… if life is knocking you down, I have been there. I feel for you. I care for you. I am here for you and I will pray for you. But do not forget to rejoice in the good.

Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Jesus Christ.

{1 Thessalonians 5:16-18}

An Open Letter to the Girl I Was One Year Ago

To the girl I was one year ago:

You are not meant to spend every weekend living in the shadow of a man who is incapable of love, compassion, and kindness.

You are not meant to be in a relationship where you feel more lonely than you did when you were single.  To be working, going to school, bettering yourself while he sits at home playing video games because his poor tummy hurts too much to go to work today.

You are not meant to spend every minute of your life making excuses to your friends and family for why you are allowing yourself to be treated badly. You are not this defensive, angry person you have become.

You are not meant to be unhappy and living in depression, always being told that you are either “too much” or “not enough.” Because let me tell you from experience, it is possible to be called both of those things together.

You ARE meant to overcome this, and move past this chapter of your life, because that’s all it is. Just a chapter that you have to get through and then close.

You can change your story. It’s not easy. It might be the most painful thing you’ve ever done but it will be the best thing you can ever do for yourself. Cut ties from the dead weight.

You are strong, and beautiful, and capable of all the things you’re being told “no” to. You are brilliant. You are talented. Your life is not a waste. You are something. You ARE somebody who is deserving of love.

You are smart enough. You ARE enough. The things that others say “too much” to are your most valuable assets, do not ever forget that. Your hustle, your busy mindset, your need to achieve… these are not problems. These are the traits that are going to help you build your damn empire. 

The ugly truth about the girl I was a year ago is that I was in complete disbelief of every one of these statements. I was actually a completely different human being… I had become someone my family didn’t recognize… hell, I didn’t recognize myself. The life had been sucked out of me. Until I got out of the situation and I changed my thoughts. I remembered who I was and worked my ass off to get to where I am right now.

And the woman I am today is burying the girl I was one year ago.

I invite you to join me. I invite you to take the steps necessary to be you again. To find your happiness again. Go back to when you were a child and you didn’t care what anyone thought. Be that version of you again. Kick ass, take names, and find your peace again. It is out there, I promise.